


Someday We'll Try To Walk Upright

by twoheadedenby



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (of a sort), Character Study, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Character, Recovery, sidurgu is in this for like two whole paragraphs, undetaIled but frank descriptions of hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheadedenby/pseuds/twoheadedenby
Summary: "I'm not sure what I was expecting. Just something... more."Rielle still has a lot to figure out about her new life.





	Someday We'll Try To Walk Upright

Hunting knives, flint, tinder, sleeping roll, bandages (Gods forbid), a few other sundries, and finally, most importantly, their harp. Gabriel nestled it gently amongst the other contents of their travel bag before securing the cover and slinging it over their shoulder. They took their bow and quiver off their resting place on the wall next to the door to Gabriel and Sidurgu’s shared bedroom.

Sidurgu was standing by the front doorway to see them both out. He had his arms crossed, like he often did when he was anxious. He had been fretting like a mother hen about this trip on and off since Gabriel had proposed it, though he had not strenuously objected to it. The lesson so forcefully imparted on him by the moogles of the Churning Mists was not one he had forgotten. He only had to remind himself that Rielle was able and ready to take care of herself, and that she was in capable hands should trouble arise.

That hadn’t stopped him trying to put some safeguards in place. It had taken some debate amongst the three of them to decide exactly where the boundaries of good sense lay: Sidurgu was overly cautious, though he at least conceded that he was aware of it, Rielle was adamant that she could handle any and all danger and responsibility presented to her. Gabriel tried to manage both of their expectations with their own hunting experience, though they were a poor judge of the level of risk involved.

An agreement had eventually been reached, and though Rielle protested some of the restrictions placed upon her, she had been content with the compromise insofar as it represented something hard-won. She had stood her ground and argued her case, and her guardians had listened to her with respect to her judgement. It was hard to be too unhappy with those results. Now, the day had at last arrived.

“I’ll bring her back in one piece,” promised Gabriel.

“Not just her,” said Sidurgu.

“We’ll be fine,” said Gabriel, standing up on their toes to put their arms around his shoulders. “I promise.”

They tugged at him to lean down and kissed him, lingering on it longer than intended. Both of them were reluctant to break it off. Eventually, Gabriel relented and pulled away from him.

“There’s more where that came from,” they said. “Bet on it.”

“Are you two done?” asked Rielle. She was mostly teasing them, but there was a clear note of impatience in her voice. She had a bag of her own over her shoulder, which she had diligently packed the night before, rather than following Gabriel’s example of hasty last-minute preparations.

Gabriel offered her an embarrassed apology and hurried them both out the door. Snowsong, Gabriel’s personal chocobo, was waiting patiently for them at the post she was tied to, bearing saddle bags laden with the camping equipment too bulky for the pair to carry.

\---

The journey took them the better part of the morning, and it was well past midday by the time they had erected their campsite at the eastern edge of the Dravanian Forelands. It was a more modest setup than the similar sites dotting the forest, furnished to accommodate more seasoned hunters over longer periods of time, and in greater numbers. Nonetheless, the pair were pleased with their handiwork and in good spirits when they set out to begin their hunt.

Rielle had been warned ahead of time about the tedium she was in for, but there was hearing about it and there was the matter of watching time crawl endlessly onwards from the discomfort of of the shrubs she and Gabriel were concealed amongst, unable to even amuse herself lest she make any noise or motion that belied their presence there. During the stillest parts of their vigil she and Gabriel at least made hushed conversation, but it would end with an abrupt and irritating _shhh!_ at unexpected intervals when something else stirred the brush. They had been loitering there less than two bells when their desired prey made itself present, but it had felt like days.

The loaghtan that had wandered into sight was an ideal mark; apart from whatever herd it belonged to, still on the cusp of full adulthood and thus significantly less dangerous to the pair if things went awry. Even so, Gabriel bade Rielle to stay still and silent where she was as they moved into position, carefully and quietly nocking an arrow as they did. This had been part of their agreement – even Rielle couldn’t argue the sense in endangering both of them where Gabriel’s skills alone would suffice.

A sharp _thud_ and a disquieting half-cry told Rielle all she needed to know, but true to her word she stayed in place until Gabriel gave her the okay, their voice startling in its clarity after all that hushed conversation. She emerged to see Gabriel pulling an arrow out of the neck of the loaghtan, lying still on the forest floor. She didn’t much like the sight, but she found herself unable to look away.

It took both of them concerted effort to drag the body from its resting place to the nearest creek. It was far too heavy to consider carrying by themselves, though Gabriel had chosen a spot not far from fresh water. When they had regained their breath, Gabriel opened their bag and pulled out a bundle of cloth and a knife. The cloth turned out to be a dirty, worn apron that they unfolded and tied around their waist before kneeling next to the loaghtan’s body.

“You’re free to watch, but there’s no shame in choosing otherwise,” said Gabriel.

Rielle shook her head. “I want to.”

“By all means, then,” they said. They put a hand over the body and murmured a short prayer.

“What was that?” asked Rielle.

“For all that the Elementals can shove most of their ideas up their own arse – don’t tell Sid I said that – I think they’ve at least got the right idea about this much. It’s not right to take an animal’s life without honouring it, I don’t think, through gratitude and through making the most of its sacrifice. I’ve always tried to adhere to that belief, not that the Wood Wailers are going to give a toss regardless.”

“That makes sense,” said Rielle, moving to place her own hand on the body. “Thank you, loaghtan, for this lesson and for all else you’re about to provide us.”

“Well said,” said Gabriel. “But you might want to get back a bit. This will be messy.”

They weren’t wrong. Rielle watched intently as they set about skinning and butchering the loaghtan, asking questions when she wasn’t sure of the methods they were using or why, listening carefully to their explanations. It was bloody work, and Gabriel was much relieved to have the meat wrapped and ready for travel so they could wash and scrub the hide and their hands alike in the river. When it was time to leave, Rielle piped up to ask if they were leaving the remains behind.

“Aye,” said Gabriel. “There’s nought else we can put to use, and carrion has to eat too.”

\---

Once they were back at camp and had a fire going (Rielle did the honours), Gabriel diced one of the cuts of meat and showed Rielle how to thread it onto skewers along with the vegetables she had personally selected to bring with them. It was a simple dish, but one widely-loved by miqo’te the world over. Gabriel was no exception.

Cooking it over the fire was Rielle’s job, though Gabriel watched her out of the corner of their eye to make sure she didn’t risk burning herself as they hung up the skins to dry and rubbed salt into the remaining meat so it would travel better. The proceeds of selling it all should help keep them all afloat for a while longer.

They had both worked up quite a hunger by the time the meat was cooked to Gabriel’s satisfaction. Rielle chewed thoughtfully, her brow furrowed in concentration as if the act of eating was a puzzle she was intent on solving.

“Is it alright?” asked Gabriel.

Rielle swallowed, twisting her mouth in indecision. “It’s… tough. And a little flavourless.”

Gabriel nodded. “Not what you were expecting?”

“I guess not. I’m not sure what I _was_ expecting. Just something… more.”

“I understand,” said Gabriel, “and I’d be lying if I told you I hadn’t felt much the same the first time I did this, when I was just a hair younger than you are now. ‘Course, I didn’t have anyone to show me the finer points of it all; made a right mess of that aldgoat, not to mention myself.”

Rielle cracked a half-smile. “So why did you take me on this trip, then?”

“Because it tastes a great deal better than starving. It tastes better knowing it was _you_ who put this food on your plate. You, Rielle, and not anybody else. If you can feed yourself, you needn’t fear going hungry ever again.” Gabriel paused, and a note of strain entered their voice. “And it’s one less thing anyone else can hold over your head.”

“You did all of the hard parts, not me.” Rielle poked at the fire with a stick, chasing embers into the air as she mulled over what she was hearing.

“For all our caution, Sid and I both know you could have felled that loaghtan if you’d needed. It’s only that we want to stop that need arising so long as we’re able.”

“I see.” Rielle’s eyes were downcast. “You and Sid aren’t… going anywhere, are you?”

“Not without you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Gabriel watched their own feet, kicking ruts into the soil underneath them. They had run this conversation over in their head dozens of times, and not once had they arrived at a version of their own actions they were satisfied with. “Know that neither one of us sets foot outside in the morning without being hellsbent on coming home to you again. That’s the most honest truth I can give you.”

“But that’s not entirely up to you, is it?”

“No. It isn’t. We might fight tooth and nail for it – and I swear to you we’d not give an ilm less – but the day might come where that isn’t enough.”

“Then why must you do it at _all_? Why put your fate at the mercy of these terrible people and risk leaving- leaving-” Rielle’s speech cut off with a choke.

“Rielle.” Gabriel’s voice was quiet and steady, soothing rather than accusatory. “If you saw someone in the same straits that Sid and Fray found you in, could you stand by and let it happen? Knowing that if it weren’t you, it would be nobody at all?”

Rielle shook her head hard enough to send her hair whipping left and right.

“Then you know why I can’t either.”

Rielle remained quiet. She had calmed noticeably, but whatever she was now thinking about was not something she felt inclined or ready to share. The two ate in silence; neither particularly hungry any more, but eating was easier than talking. They watched the fire dwindle while stewing on all that had been said. Gabriel was mentally chiding themself, unsure if they had spoken too much or too freely. Rielle struggled to process the storm of conflicting emotions she was experiencing into something, _anything_ , that made sense to her.

The fire waned on, and around half a bell after they finished making fitful and half-hearted work of their food, after tracing patterns in the dirt had lost its appeal, Rielle stood up and stretched. “Is it okay if I go to bed now?”

“Of course,” said Gabriel, standing up to join her. “You know you don’t need my permission, right? Nor anybody else’s.”

Rielle made a noise high-pitched and sudden enough to startle Gabriel a little. She was crying. Instinctively, Gabriel pulled her close. She held onto them around the waist and buried her face in their chest. Between sobs, she managed to get out an apology. “I’m sorry I ruined this trip.”

Gabriel spoke to her in measured tones, trying not to show any sign of the sorrow stirring in their chest. “You did just fine. Nothing happened that shouldn’t have.”

“This isn’t how ordinary people go camping.”

“We’re not ordinary people, Rielle,” said Gabriel. “And we don’t have to be.”

Gabriel’s shirt was getting sodden, and Rielle was clinging to them so tightly that breathing was added effort. They would have let her cut off airflow completely if she had needed to just then. She kept crying for some minutes not worth counting. Gabriel knew nothing for it but to keep holding her, and so they did until the sobs died down and she began to sniffle. Eventually, in a hoarse voice, she asked them something.

“Is it always going to be this hard?”

Gabriel stroked her hair in a slow, rhythmic pattern. The word _maybe_ rose to their lips and died there several times. Instead, they said nothing, for nothing was all else they had. Wordlessly, they took her by the hand and led her inside the tent, inviting her to lay down on her bed roll and draping a blanket over her after she did.

They dug their harp out of their bag, glad as ever that it came with them everywhere they went. They plucked gently at the strings, aimlessly at first until they settled on a melody: a simple hymn to Oschon, giving thanks that he might continue to see directionless travellers to safe ends. It was a favourite of theirs.

Rielle seemed to be asleep by the end of the second verse, but Gabriel played the song to its end anyway. The notes receded into the night and gave way to the crackle of the fire once more. They would have to put it out and clean up the campsite before long. They would, soon enough. But not just yet.


End file.
